


Words Almost Unsaid

by Meghan Callahan (cuddlybunny)



Series: Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed 3 - Fandom, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AC3/Hamilton Crossover AU, F/F, F/M, Genderfluid Lafayette, Multi, OT3, Original Character(s), character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlybunny/pseuds/Meghan%20Callahan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor and Mercedes have been separated for some time, after an argument about her impending marriage to Don Juan de Legara, when he receives an urgent letter from her closes ally</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Almost Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in a slight AU, in which all but Charles Lee of the historical figures in the game are replaced by their Hamilton (yes the musical) counterparts.
> 
> Also
> 
> [Muffled One-Winged Angel theme playing in the distance]

The letter arrived on the heels of victory, as Connor went to Philadelphia, in order that he might speak to Washington. He had been hoping for a word, a letter, something, anything from her. Something to try to bridge this gap they had put between him. One that put a gap between himself and Lilu as well, his temper short and his words sharp, even when he didn't mean them to be. He was only thankful for her understanding, her own patience, and her ability to hold her own temper.

The letter was run to him by a small boy, one who was gasping as it was handed to him, before turning and running back away toward town. He smelled her perfume on it, her private stationary, and even though the two of them had been arguing, he smiled. It was sweet, soft, the smell of flowers after fresh rain; a scent she adored for only in the North, only with them, had she had the pleasure of it. Lilu pulled her horse up beside him.

“Mercedes?” She asked, a small smile on her lips. She had been hungry for news as well, having been holed up here with him since his capture, having been his rescuer, despite her distaste for dramatics.

“Yes...” He slipped open the envelope, looking at the letter inside, his eyes narrowing a little in suspicion, “...no,” He added, “No, this isn't her handwriting at all. This is Hamilton's work...” He scanned down the page, his eyes widening little by little.

_Forgive my brevity but what must be said must be said quickly and without innuendo. Mercedes is hurt, possibly dying, and she needs you. She attacked the Templars directly…_

The words were muddy after that, and he shoved the paper toward Lilu, wheeling his horse around.

“Connor, what are we doing?”

“We go back,” He snapped, “To Harlem, now-” He stopped, seeing her face, hurt and concerned, gulping back his tears, “Ekta was shot,” He whispered to her. Her eyes widened, “But, one of us must see to Washington. To Lee.”

“Go,” Lilu pulled her horse up to his, her hand shooting out to rest on his over the reigns, “Go to her. I will catch up.” She put her hand to his cheek, and he saw the hurt there, lying in her dark brown eyes. She wanted to go, to be there with her student, her sister-in-arms, her beloved, but she would sacrifice for the greater good, “Connor,” She whispered in a shaky, soft, quiet voice, “Please. Don't fight with her. Not this time.” She kissed him before he could say anything, her eyes closing. He felt the tears on her cheeks as he settled his hand against hers as well, kissing her back, trying to give her comfort when he, himself was hurt and broken.

She set her forehead briefly on his. Then, fully released him, brushing his cheekbone with her thumb, turning her horse and riding off. He turned back toward the city, toward New York, toward her. He rode so hard he was almost afraid he would hurt his horse, all but flying down the streets before he found the Hamilton home.

“Mercedes!” His voice was half-wail, half-sob as he pushed open the door, looking toward the startled faces of Angelica Schuyler and John Laurens as they came from the living room, “Please, where is Mercedes? I have to see her...” His chest ached, not all of it from his run. Breathing hurt, “Please, Laurens, I-” His voice caught, “Please,” He managed out pathetically, “Please, I need her.”

Laurens looked at him with a stony face. “Upstairs,” He said, putting a hand on Angelica's arm and gently moving her away, “She's upstairs in the guest bedroom.” He looking back at Connor, “If you say anything...” He warned, but Connor was already going up the stairs.

He pushed open the door, seeing the others around her bed. For a moment, he feared the worst. Lafayette stood on her left, tears in their eyes. Mulligan held her right hand in his, dark thumb caressing the only slightly lighter skin. Alexander paced, ranting, raving, swearing revenge for this, before he saw Connor.

“You got my note,” He said, as coldly, stonily as he could. The assassin stepped into the room, afraid to breathe, afraid to even look at them, his eyes on the woman on the bed.  
His cheek suddenly hurt anew, amidst the bruises from his capture and his imprisonment, and it snapped him back to reality. He saw her then, Eliza Hamilton, radiant and womanly, filled with rage.

“How dare you,” She demanded, “How dare you come into this house, into this room, as if you're not partially to blame.”

He stared with wide eyes, almost looking for help. Alexander stepped up beside his wife, trying to take her wrist, but Eliza slapped Connor a second time.

“Do you even understand what this is? This was her trying to make amends to you, when you wouldn't read the letters, wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't let her explain. And all she was doing was saving your revolution, the only way she could.”

“I don't...you said she engaged the Templars,” It was a foolish move, to be sure, and he hurt just thinking about it. Mercedes was a capable assassin, but a templar onslaught by herself…?

“Ah, for once, a poor chance of words,” Lafayette, murmured, wiping their teary eyes, “She did engage the Templar host, 'tis true. But, her first target was chosen...poorly. How do you say? A fool's errand.”

Connor looked at all of them, the accusing eyes, the cold stares amongst tears and worry, and it sunk in. “My father,” He intoned softly, “She tried to kill my father. To spare me the task of it.” He looked at her, the small, sleeping angel on the bed, who looked so still, her dark hair in a single braid to keep it from tangling, looking all but naked with her beads removed and lying on the bedside table beside her, eyes closed, lips parted just slightly. He could hardly make out if she was breathing, realizing for some reason he had been holding his own breath. As he let it out, he realized why, the tears stinging his eyes. “I didn't...I didn't realize...” He started toward her.

Hercules stood, almost as big as Connor himself, looking into his face. He alone seemed to start to understand. He reached out, placing a hand slowly on Connor's shoulder, as soon as Connor did not brush him away, and his hand squeezed a moment. It was a silent warning, that if anything should ever happen like this again, he would kill Connor himself, assassin or no.

Connor might let him. He managed to pull away, looking down at her, “Is-is she-” He started, looking at them all, finally Alexander, where he held Eliza's shaking shoulders, “Hamilton, tell me...did my father kill her?”

“No,” Alexander said finally, gulping back his tears, “No, not yet. The doctor said that the bullet didn't kill her instantly, but she's fragile and she may not last the week. We're supposed to watch her.”

“Then I will do it.” He knelt beside her bed, “I will watch over her...it is...” He took her hand where it lay against the bedspread, “Thank you. All of you. Thank you for taking such good care of her, and for being her friends when I could not.” He closed his hand around the tiny palm, settling it against his cheek, feeling the small, weak pulse there. His eyes closed and he vaguely heard the others leaving.

“Kenway,” Alexander stated, and Connor opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder at the small man. His black eyes burned fire and passion always, but today, they were fire amongst the roiling sea, tears still dripping down his cheeks, “If she dies because of this...if this ever happens again, not even your Brotherhood will save you from me. Do you understand?”

He nodded mutely, unable to speak as he turned back to her. Now he could see it, the minute rising and falling amongst the blankets of her chest as she tried to breathe. He couldn't help but give a tearful smile at the amount of them. She was always complaining about the cold. She would always move in close to him at night, because he was so warm, her fingers like ice where they rested on his chest, and her toes the same against his legs as she tried to curl up into a ball against his side.

He hadn't been able to sleep so well with that warmth gone, gone in a haze of poisonous words, of words with edges and barbs that neither of them had been able to stop. He brushed her hair out of her face where some of it was escaping the braid to fall into her eyes, thumb brushing her forehead. “Ekta,” He whispered the quiet, private name, “Ekta, I am so sorry. I should...I should never have left your side. I was jealous, and I was angry, and I-I only wanted you to be ours still.”

He could hear the rumblings of argument downstairs, but, it didn't seem to matter. “I don't care what it costs me, I don't care if it costs me this entire damn war,” His voice was shaky as he kissed the back of her hand, gently, “I just want you to live, and I want you safe, here, with us.” The tears started to spill over, “Please, Ekta, please just...just live.”

He could remember with almost perfect detail the first time he'd seen her, in her white hood and buckskin, threatening him with foreign words he did not know, promising to kill him if he came too close. He saw in his mind's eye the first time her father – her damned father, as much the cause of this rift as Juan and the two of them were to each other – had introduced him to his small daughter with her words like glass and her resolve of steel.

He remembered the first wound he had let her clean up, deft fingers finding just the pain to stitch shut. He remembered the first time he had kissed her, the two of them pumping adrenaline from a battle well fought, how she'd looked like a warrior spirit in human form, how she tasted like heaven and the soft little mewlings that had come out of her mouth, begging him for more even as he pulled away.

He looked at her now. She looked helpless, weak, barely holding on, her eyes closed, hands hanging limply over the blankets, the one in his hand even unable to grip his palm. The breath coming into and out of her was weak, small, and she shuddered every now and then. He pulled off his boots, his weapons, his coat and belt, moving into bed with her, holding her to him. He kissed her hair, trying to lend her his warmth. Even through the fabric of her clothes, of her bandages, he could feel how cold she was. He could only hope it was her natural coldness and not her life leaving her.

“I love you,” He murmured to her, pulling her body close to him, not too hard. Not wanting to open her wound, “I want you to know that, more than ever, I love you.” He held her, eyes closing, “If you die without knowing that...with-without understanding it...” He closed his eyes tight, his grip tightening a little, “Ekta...Mercedes...I cannot do this without you. Without your words, without your presence, without your touch, I-I can't...”

He fell asleep that way, with her in his arms, whispering to her that he loved her, that he needed her, that he would give up his whole world just for one more night with her alive and well.

He swore as his eyes closed that he felt her fingers move in his.

~

“Connor. You have to go.”

He cracked open his eyes against the sunlight, slowly raising his head, hand still on Mercedes'. He looked down at her, shaking his head. “No. No, I am not leaving,” He murmured. It had been three days, but he had felt her getting stronger, he had felt her start to move in her sleep, though maybe that was wishful thinking. Lilu had sent word that Washington was in New York and she would be headed that way. He had fallen asleep in the chair this time, his plates of uneaten food scattered everywhere.

“You don't understand,” Alexander looked more than a little conflicted himself, “You can't be here. Don Juan Legara is just in my parlor, and he wants to see his future wife.”

“Tell him to go to hell,” Connor snapped at him, lack of sleep and worry fraying his nerves, “I will not be removed because he wants a prize for being in this with us. You were the one to write me that Mercedes needed me.”

“She was begging for you in a fever, I didn't know what else to do!” Alex snapped back, “And if you care so much, _you_ tell him to go to hell!”

“I will. From here.” Connor set his jaw, “I'm not leaving her again.”

“You do that, you ruin her political career, everything she's built up, and she will never be allowed near the General again, is that what you want?”

“I want her! I don't care about her relationship to Washington or-”

“Of course you don't. You haven't seen how she talks in debate; she has a gift, Connor, and she chooses to nurture it. You take that away, and you hurt her as much as you did when you told her to go away from you! Now, get the hell out of this room before I have to have the others drag you out, kicking and screaming like a child.”

The assassin flinched as if Alex had actually thrown a blow and hit him, looking at Mercedes and shaking his head. “I'm not leaving,” He insisted softly, “If the don wants to talk to her, he can do it with me here. I'm sorry, Alexander. I am not going.”

Alexander looked at him, like he was going to get angry, before letting out a small sigh. “I understand. I do. If the situations were reversed-”

“It would be different. I would never tell you that you had to leave Eliza's side, not when you needed her and she needed you.”

He gave a weak laugh, “Thank you for that, I guess.” He admitted, before the door opened, his eyes widening, “Lilu! How...how did you get up here past Laurens?”

“I argued him into a stupor,” The female assassin snapped, all but throwing her spear against one wall, pushing past him and storming to Connor, “Is she all right?” She asked, and he was caught off-guard for once. Her eyes were shining, with both rage and grief, “Connor,” She said softer, “Is she all right…?”

“We don't know,” He admitted, “It...it is hard to tell. The doctor says she may be recovering, but, she's so weak. She cannot even open her eyes.”

Lilu nodded, looking down at her, lovingly brushing her hair out of her face, her eyes closing a moment as she took a breath in, “Haytham Kenway will die for this,” She whispered.

“Lilu, don't-”

“On my honor, he will die, Connor.” Her eyes opened, and she met his eyes, her own now starting to fall, “He will die one way or another, but I-”

“No,” He looked toward her, “No, I will not have you fight him, I won't risk you, too.”

“I am not a child, Connor, one Templar-”

“One Templar did this,” He replied, motioning to Mercedes, “I agree, he needs punished...but, I won't let...won't let this happen to you.”

Images of Lilu lying broken, bleeding, hurting, intruded into his mind, constricting his chest and making him look away. Slowly, finally, he met her eyes, and she seemed to realize. “He is my father. I will take care of this...please...don't-don't-”

Lilu's rage seemed to cool, but for a moment, and she crossed the room to him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in, his tears beginning to start fresh, “Please,” He whispered into her hair, and soon he was clinging to her, repeating the one word, that one begged syllable, as if it would keep Mercedes' heart beating, keep Lilu from leaving him when he needed them both.

He heard her soft sobs, and his arms wrapped her waist a little more tightly. She nodded and he kissed the cloudy curls, over and over, until her body stopped shaking and her voice stopped its loud whimpers, where he had smothered them to his chest. He kissed her softly, and she clung to him before he pulled away, both of them breathless.

“Connor, _mon ami,_ ” Lafayette murmured from the doorway, eyes red-rimmed and tired-looking, “The don is asking to see Mercedes. We cannot refuse him. But, you cannot be here.”

He ground his teeth, releasing Lilu, “I am not leaving,” He snarled, looking down at Mercedes, where she slept, where she rested, “I am staying.”

“Do not make this harder than it has to be,” Alex murmured.

“I won't. Just...let me stay.” He didn't want to leave her side. He didn't want to leave her again. Even when he slept, those rare times he slept, he felt empty, hollow, guilty without her, “Please, I am begging you. Lafayette, Alexander...don't...don't-”

“You have to go,” Alex said, filled with resolve, “Now. Before Juan gets up here.”

They had to drag him away. Hercules wrapped an arm around his waist, Laurens holding his wrists as he sobbed her name, wanting only to be with her, in case she woke.

He wanted to see her eyes when they opened. He wanted to kiss her lips when she tried to apologize, to tell her that everything was all right without words. He wanted to be the first to see her. He paced downstairs, unable to sit still, unable to speak for the lump in his throat, wanting so badly to be with the two of them, to be there for them as he had not been, as he should have been.

Finally, his tired legs could no longer hold him and he sat, as the others paced, his hands resting in his hands.

_“You're a hypocrite, always telling me to just be done with my father! Yours snaps his fingers and you're off to marry some noble you've never met and will never love!”_

_“For your Revolution! For the money and guns for your battle, to destroy the Templars! I would have thought you would understand!”_

_“Well, I don't. I don't understand why you would let yourself be…be whored_ _out for politics!”_

I'm so sorry.

I should never have said it.

_“You would know, you're very nearly bending over for the white devils the moment they snap their fingers. And then, when it's all said and done, what have you done? Murdered templars, but destabilized the land! They will take and take from you until you have nothing left to give.”_

_“As opposed to you, going to give some Spaniard babies in the name of justice and truth? You're going to be just like your mother? What will happen when the war is done? He will leave you, broken and hurt, and no one will be able to save you!”_

I knew better. Please, stay with me, Mercedes. I love you.

 _“I'm leaving for New York in the morning. Perhaps you will see me when I return. If I'm not busy, saving_ _your_ country.”

“My country won't need your help being saved. Enjoy your new husband, Mercedes.”

His tears fell anew. He had to apologize for everything he'd said to her. He had to tell her he loved her more than the sun, more than the earth, more than the ocean and the stars, more than the revenge he had sworn.

He had to tell her he needed her more than the breath in his lungs, the blood in his veins, the beat of his heart. He had to tell her how beautiful he knew she was, inside and out, the way he could watch and hear her speak for days on end and never grow bored. He had to apologize for using that word, that one he knew she hated more than others, the word he knew had sealed his fate.

He had to make this right.

He stood, making his way upstairs, opening the door. Juan sat beside her, praying to his knuckles, but stood and rounded on him as soon as he came in.

“ _Senor_ , I must ask you to leave.”

“I will not.” Connor snarled, “I will not ever leave again.” He looked at her with tearful eyes, “Why do you want her?” He finally asked, “Is she...a means to an end to you? A way to unite your world and that of this country?”

“No!” Juan's eyes widened in incredulity, “How could you ever imply that?”

“A pretty, exotic treasure for you, then? To show off to your friends, the way her father does?”

“Never! I love Mercedes de la Fuente, and our marriage will be the uniting of two hearts, of two minds, of...” The man trailed off, “I do not have to explain myself to you.”

Before either of them could speak, her fingers moved again. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes opened slowly.

Connor all but hit his knees, moving closer to her side. Please, please, let this not be a dream.

She blinked a few times, looked back at him, and him only. He felt her eyes pierce into his soul, and he took her hand, holding it to his heart. He cupped her cheek in his palm, brushing her cheekbone with his thumb.

“Connor...” She rasped out.

“Shh,” He smiled weakly, “I'm here. I'm here. Save your strength.”

“What-”

“It doesn't matter now. You're awake...you're going to be all right.” He looked toward Juan, “Please, sir. Tell Lilu that...that's she's awake.” He looked back at this woman, his sunlight, his warmth, tears of joy replacing the tears of shame, “Ekta, I thought...I thought I lost you.”

She raised a shaking hand, pressing his against her face, “No. Never…Connor…Ratonhnhaké:ton...I shouldn't have...have said those things. I hurt you and I-I'm so sorry.”

“I apologize as much as you,” He squeezed her hand gently, “I should never have said those things about your mother. I should have understood. Not agreed with, understood.” He closed his eyes, leaning forward, resting his forehead against hers, “I love you so much,” His whisper was as much a whimper, “If you had died...I don't know if I could have...”

“You would have,” She promised, her own tears starting, and he brushed them away with his thumb, “I know you. You are...so strong.”

“Promise me you'll never go into a fight like that again. Swear to it.”

“I swear.” The words were like music to him, “I swear never to go into a fight with no hope of winning. I swear never to scare you like this again.” She paused, giving a soft sniff, “But, Connor...your revo-”

“To hell with them.”

“You don't mean that.”

“If it means that I let you go and marry a man your father decided for you, that I cannot be with you to hold you, to love you, only to watch you from afar, then to hell with them.” Connor raised his head, leaning down and kissing her gently, not wanting to take the breath from her yet. She leaned up into his kiss, a bit of her fire returning as she kissed him back, and he was the one who pulled away, “I will never lose you again, Ekta. Never.”

She gave a teary smile, releasing his hand to brush a lock of his hair back from his face, “My hero,” She murmured, her eyes closing as she rested against him, “I am still so tired...and it's freezing in this room.”

He gave a small, somewhat startled laugh as he moved onto the bed with her, holding her in his arms. “Better?” He asked.

“Much...” Her eyes opened as the door did, Lilu all but flying to the bed, “Oh, mi amor...” She whispered, touching Lilu's face, “Don't cry...”

Lilu was still crying, leaning in and kissing Mercedes much harder than Connor had been, “You're alive...thank all of the _loa_ and the _kami_ , you're alive.” She gripped Mercedes' face, “Do not _ever_ scare me that way again! Not ever again.” She slid her arms around the two of them, holding them both close to them.”

Mercedes shook her head with a small, weak nod, “Never again.”


End file.
